As some of you know, I unfortunately got pickpocketed on the Eiffel Tower and lost my iphone. It wasn't so much the phone itself, but everything stored on it that I really regret losing. I had recorded students reading their poems from my poetry workshops in Dhaka and Trinidad and also had video and interviews of various poets I had met throughout the year. I'm still pretty disappointed, but I have to remind myself that even without the files I still have the experiences recounted in my journal, photos (backed up on this blog and on my computer), and in memory (cliche, but true). Also, the invasion of privacy was something that really got to me since I had my hand over my bag (holding down the zipper!) when this group of people all of sudden started bombarding me from both sides. I had been warned that when any sudden commotion occurs, it's probably someone trying to distract you while they pickpocket you, but in the moment you forget everything and just try to escape from the crowd. I also learned that some pickpocketers make their entire fortune just by going up to the Eiffel Tower everyday to target tourists. Sad, but true and to that I say: karma.
Anyway, Provence is absolutely beautiful. Like Prague, I would move here in a heartbeat. The days are hot, the nights are also warm. But, there's a vibrancy to everything about Provence from the produce to the people and in all the colors that I see throughout the day. I especially love Friday market days. I'm reading this book about Provencal markets and the author compares the excitement you experience the night before market day to a child eagerly awaiting Christmas morning. Haha, I think it's pretty true! It's funny to visit market day and realize that Friday is actually a work day (even though no one's working)! Another thing that has taken some getting used to is the store schedules. The stores in town are all closed between 12-3 pm everyday for their three hour lunch break! While their productivity level is low, the French know how to relax and their quality of life seems to be much higher.
I now have less than one month left of my Watson. I was putting together an album of my favorite pictures from the year and it's crazy to think that several months ago I was in Trinidad, St. Lucia, Bangladesh, and India.. all very, very different places from Carpentras. Last July, a year seemed like an infinite time period, but now it's closing in on me. I need to revise poems, start thinking about my final presentation for the fellows conference, and get ready to say goodbyes for the last time.
End note: "A poet must leave traces of his passage, not proof." -René Char
